ROULER

23/06

BIKING NICE AT BENICE

BIKING NICE AT BENICE Back in January, I received a call from Alex about an event they wanted to launch. I knew it would be the kind of event I would enjoy. I met his crew from Valencia last year, and I couldn't be more grateful to the bikepacking community we are building in Spain and around the globe. When I started traveling by bike some years ago, I never expected this incredible feeling of belonging – no matter where you are, you always feel close to your ‘tribe’. These guys from Valencia were my tribe. BeNice was introduced to me with a mix of joy and doubt, knowing it involved a risky decision: investing not only money but also a significant amount of work on an inclusive event, in their free time outside their jobs. It wasn't an easy decision, but people were always asking how they could join the gatherings we’ve had over the last few years around Spain. I was eager to enjoy the event from the moment I first heard about it. June came quicker than I expected, and soon enough, the event was here. From Bilbao to Valencia is just over 600 kilometres, but there are some differences in climate and the character of the people. I love that in one country there is so much diversity. BeNice not only brought together people from these two regions but also from various parts of Spain and Europe. We had our most international member, Sara, who came from her native Scotland, and Iñigo, who lives in Brussels. The rest of us came from Andalusia, Aragon, Madrid, and other parts of Spain. Some of us already knew each other; others didn't. The mission of the event was to bring together more members and create a small community. On the first day of BeNice, on our way to our basecamp Alex says to me "Now is your time. We have already enjoyed creating this." The basecamp, Mas de Cotanda, was a few hours away from Valencia. A masía or mas is a type of rural construction common in the eastern regions of Spain and derives from the Latin word mansus, meaning "country house". These historical buildings have been central to agricultural life for centuries, serving as family residences, farms, and production centers. Beyond their function as simple rural structures, masías symbolise a deep connection to the land and local communities. Mas de Cotanda offerz incredible views of the Sierra de la Batalla and the adjacent massifs. This area is part of what is commonly known as la España Vacía (Empty Spain). This term describes the depopulation and ageing of many rural areas in Spain, the migration to large cities and the abandonment of rural regions. Arrived on bicycles or in vans or cars we were happy to meet familiar faces and pleased to discover some new ones ! The magic of BeNice was bringing together people beyond our small community of cycling friends. Almost sixty people gathered in front of Alex and Will, who explained the basic rules. We immediately began discussing which route we would choose for Friday - Alex and Will planned 8 differents routes with various difficulity levels - as well as our anticipation for dinner and the delicious food being prepared in the kitchen. The incredible aroma of baked vegetables made our stomachs growl even more. The first dinner gave us a wonderful preview of the incredible vegan recipes we would enjoy over the next few days. Leek cream, curried tofu, hummus with various ingredients, and excellent coffee were just a few of the breakfast, lunch, and dinner combinations. Hooray for the cooks! Some slept in tents, others in vans, and the rest in the rooms of the Mas. We woke up to sunshine and a bit of morning freshness after a rainy and stormy night. We started the day with a yoga session led by Cris from Surya Bikepacking. Cris's class was enjoyable, interesting, energising, and relaxing, giving us the opportunity to stretch our stiff bodies after the humid night. A delicious breakfast followed, bringing with it the first BeNice connections at the long table outside the house. The first departures are starting. I joined the group on the route 7, because it was one of the longest and most demanding routes, leading to a deserted town, La Estrella. After dressing in some of the clothes from the new Café du Cycliste collection, I prepared my bike with food, snacks, and enough water for the 79 kilometres and 1,500 metres of elevation gain ahead of us. We had the whole day ahead and needed to return by 6:30 p.m. We shared the start with route 4, which the organizers had designed to take the most direct paths with the least elevation gain to reach the town of Mosqueruela. To avoid the road entirely before reaching the town, they included a small stretch of path. The first section was rideable, but it soon became rougher, and more than one person had to dismount and walk for a short distance. The downside of this route was the lack of water points, shops, or bars to refuel or buy food at. We passed by farmhouses and skirted gentle hills before beginning the descent to the Monleón River and the Estrella neighborhood Reaching La Estrella was special. We had high expectations for this place because we had heard many stories locals. Martín and Sinforosa had been the only inhabitants of the remote village of La Estrella for over thirty years, but the only residents today are the cats that Martín and Sinforosa cared for. After a lunch break, we had to climb a few kilometres and some steep slopes to leave the Monleón River and reach the Vistabella plain, then head back to the camp. After dodging some mud, we arrived back at the Masía with big smiles on our faces and exhausted bodies. The large group had divided into two, so we gathered to share experiences before Juan's talk. Juan has been dealing with multiple health issues all his life. He has been a long-distance racer against the tumours forming in his digestive system as well as a real ultra-marathoner, and a long-distance cyclist. An incredible person, we were honoured to hear his experiences as he presented his book, Vacío (Empty)! We woke up early to light rain and a grey day – this wasn't pleasant news for us, but it would be beneficial for the area – but Cris managed to brighten it up with the first asanas of the day. After breakfast, we geared up for Saturday’s adventure: tackling route number 5. A group set off to explore the slopes of the Vistabella plain. This place was truly a delight to experience. Following a section of the GR7, we crossed several farmhouses nestled between the Sierra de Boi and the depths of the Monleón River, eventually reaching the San Bartolomé Hermitage. With origins tracing back to the Templars, at the foot of Boi Castle, it offered a unique and beautiful balcony with views of the town of Culla. After climbing back up to the Vistabella plain, the trail led us directly to the town centre, where we replenished our energy at one of its bars and a pastry shop, nearly emptying its shelves of sweets. Slightly soaked from the persistent rain and sugared up from the treats, we returned to the camp. After completing the second route, enjoying a hot shower and some snacks, it was my turn to speak. It was incredible to share my experiences surrounded by people with the same cycling vision, souls who understood the journey on wheels and sparked debates about today's world. I am still grateful to the organisation for this wonderful opportunity. After a delicious dinner, it was time for the raffle drawing, with incredible prizes from all the brands that supported the event. Nervous and intrigued, we gathered in the main hall for the show. Some lucky winners walked away with up to three prizes! Sunday arrived, bringing shorter routes to ensure we could savour the giant paella at 2 p.m. With a group of girls, we strolled around the Masía, stretching our legs and enjoying relaxed conversations. We didn't want to miss the paella or the chance to pack up camp early and air out the tent. Although the rain had stopped, the humidity lingered in the air. Two large vegan paellas arrived at the table ahead of schedule, concluding a few days of connection and reconnection that wouldn’t have been possible without all the hard work by the BeNice team. Goodbyes are always bittersweet, but none of the organisers said no to a future reunion, so… see you in a few months! Thank you, thank you and thank you. Much love!

ROULER

25/03

SOPHIE POTTER RIDES THE ATLAS MOUNTAIN RACE.

SOPHIE POTTER RIDES THE ATLAS MOUNTAIN RACE. Intrepid adventurer Sophie Potter has just finished the Atlas Mountain Race (AMR), an ultra mountain-bike event that crosses Morocco’s Atlas Mountains and passes via the Anti-Atlas to finish in Essaouira. It’s a serious business: 1,300km and 21,000m of elevation over sand, stones and colonial-era gravel tracks. Sophie explains how it went… You set off for Morocco three weeks early – was it all just tagines? Before getting there I’d spent two months on my home trainer, so I really wanted to get used to the bike again, without bags on. The time allowed me to refine my riding position and get an idea of the temperatures in Morocco at low and high altitudes, to choose the right clothing and sleep system. Unfortunately, I was ill those three weeks and ended up coughing so hard I cracked a rib. I had to rest a lot, and couldn’t recce as much of the route as I’d hoped. Tell us about the equipment you rolled on… I took a Scott hardtail that I’d bought second hand. Before the race I’d ridden around 3,500km on it, including the Silk Road Mountain Race and the Pamir Highway, up to altitudes of 4,700m. It’s specially equipped with lightweight but reliable parts… I added aerobars to take the pressure off my hands, but even so I lost feeling in six of my fingers. With my lightweight René Herse Fleecer Ridge tyres and custom cargo wheels, total weight was around 10kg." And what was in your bags? I took the lightest possible equipment, without skimping on the essentials to finish the race. Some people take risks because their goal is to finish first, but that wasn’t me. Nevertheless, I didn’t take anything ‘just in case’. In the frame bag I mainly had electrical equipment: two 10,000mAh battery packs, a charger, cables, a multitool, pump and a tubeless repair kit, as well as my documents, money and some food (I also had some supplementary food pouches). In my top tube bag, essentials for on the move – sun cream, sunglasses, moisturiser, lip balm. In my saddlebag, a first-aid kit, sleep system, warm jacket, leg warmers and gloves. I didn’t take a change of clothes. Every 12 hours I changed and washed my bibs, leaving the other pair to dry on the saddlebag. Because there’s not much water in Morocco, I used taps outside the little shops I passed to both ‘shower’ and wash my clothes! What couldn’t you do without in a multi-day race like this, in terms of repair kit? Chain oil – no hesitation! A tubeless kit, an inner tube fixed to the frame and tyre levers; two pumps (including a 30g back-up); multitool, cable ties and duct tape; two pairs of brake pads; pliers, a quick link and a derailleur hanger. And for sleeping? I prefer sleeping inside during races as I recover better. However, I knew that for the AMR this wouldn’t always be possible. So I opted for an ultra-light inflatable sleeping mat and a 450g sleeping bag rated to 2 ºC. How were the vibes pre-race? The afternoon before the race, Nelson, the race director informed us that the police had ordered a 24-hour delay to the start, because of storms that were about to hit. I’d been very stressed and hadn’t slept properly for three nights, so the news came as a relief – I’d have another night to try to rest. The start was uncertain even up to 16h00 the next day: Nelson said it wasn’t guaranteed, but we should go to the start line for 17h30… Did you have any rituals for the first intense 24 hours? Night fell quickly, so you naturally got tired straight away, but I forced myself not to sleep in the first 24 hours. Around 3h00 in the morning, after 120km, I took a mini-break at Checkpoint 1. The hours after that were the most difficult until the sun rose around 7h30 – when the adrenaline kicked in. I had an idea of where I wanted to stop, but I stayed flexible – I made decisions on the fly based on how I was progressing. Did you spend much time riding with other people? With more than 200 people racing, the first nights seemed busy, but then the gaps built up. In the first 24 hours I was often with a rider called Romain who shared a similar rhythm to me. Over the third and fourth days I regularly saw the same five riders; then, after a long break at Checkpoint 3 on the fifth day, I encountered new faces. Sometimes we chatted, sometimes not, sometimes sharing a place to rest. It was a first for me, and very enriching! What did you eat and where did you sleep? How did you manage your water in the desert? Food-wise I had 24 hours’ worth at the start, and then I relied on what I could find on the road. Little shops sold a range of biscuits, often individually wrapped, and I went for ones containing dates, which are rich in carbs. In the big towns there were restaurants and fast food, whereas elsewhere it was mainly Berber omelettes and bread. I slept out under the stars three nights and twice at checkpoints, around 4-5 hours each time. As for water, I planned it according to the distance between resupply points, but always had 2-3 litres with me, and sometimes more if I’d bought fizzy drinks. We followed you via the tracker and social networks, and saw you suffered from some health issues that slowed you down… I tried always to eat, drink and sleep well, but nevertheless some serious problems started on the fourth day: a lung infection, which I thought had healed, came back with the fatigue, effort and the dryness of the air. This changed into an asthma attack in the last couple of days. By the time I stopped at Checkpoint 3, I’d had swollen legs since day two, and was having an inflammatory attack, which I tried to manage with medication, but it didn’t work as I hoped. I never thought about abandoning. If I stopped, my inflammation would have won, so I got back on the road despite the pain, cutting the bottom of my bibs to relieve the pressure. I rode for a while with a guy called William, who was in jeans and Vans, and I began to get control. In the last 90km a headwind added to the challenge, but I gave everything I had left in my legs and overtook five people before finishing. At 5h00 on the morning of the seventh day Sophie, physically tired but in good spirits, crossed the finish line where her friends were waiting for her. After stamping her brevet, she rode to a hotel where fellow Café du Cycliste athlete Adrien Liechti bought her a delicious hamburger. Only the next day did the aches and pains get the better of her and a trip to hospital confirmed the asthma attack she’d been suffering in the race final. After a few days, however, all that remained were the good memories of rising to the challenge of this incredible adventure. For Sophie, the finish line was only the beginning: with Adrien in tow, she is now heading for Dakar, and is currently somewhere in the middle of the Sahara. Bonne route Sophie!